All right. You know how much I hate to apologize. Well, I’m apologizing. I shouldn’t have shouted at you. That was the point at which the meeting degenerated past all hope of usefulness. One of my instructors used to say to me that if I was ever about to lose my temper, do something productive instead, like draw hanged stick figures on my tablet where no one can see them, or think up death-traps using office chairs and nail clippers. I used to think she was being facetious but now I see that was good advice. If nothing else, I bet I could get Stoghan with a pathetically simple trap. He’s very careless about personal security and I know you’ve noticed that too. (Don’t worry. You think you need him, so I’ll restrain myself.)
Anyway, I must impress this point upon you. My advice is only as good as the information I have to base it on. I don’t take it personally when the enemy tries to deceive me. They are only behaving rationally. On the other hand, it hurts your cause when you keep vital information from me. I’m not talking about things like that Andan-certified courtesan that Stoghan is seeing on the side, whom he thinks I don’t know about. I’m talking about things like the basic functioning of our famed defense system. If you knew the weakness in advance, why hide it from me?
You know the calculations as well as I do. Inconvenient arch-traitor or no, those shields were supposed to hold out indefinitely. We can’t predict how long it’ll take for the Hafn relief swarm to arrive. Even with considerable resources devoted to deceiving Kel Command, it’s hard for them not to figure out that the Hafn might head here.
So much for external problems. Let’s look at what’s going on in the six wards. Right now the Anemone Ward is a mess. Each report from Stoghan is more incoherent than the last. The loyalists seem to be fighting quite effectively, but we can’t allow them to hold the communications post.
I’m keeping an eye on atmospheric scores in the Drummers’ Ward and the Ribbon Ward, so don’t fret about public opinion fluctuations. We’re still convincing your citizens of the importance of adhering to the new calendars and participating in this newfangled voting thing. No blunt methods. I’ve always despised the Vidona. Which reminds me, we’ve got to be faster at processing the Vidona detainees for release. Word will get out and that can only do us good.
The loyalists aren’t anywhere near the routes to the command center, which is another reason to silence them quickly. I’ve always found it charming how your high language associates “silence” and “community.” Where I come from, it’s “silence” and “death.”
I’ve got people hard at work in the Radiant Ward, mostly at that nitwit Stoghan’s insistence. Admittedly we do want to keep a firm hold of that ward, so it’s not all wasted effort, and it keeps him from hassling me when I need something from him. I promised I’d stop picking on him, but he’s such an easy target. It’s not clear to me why he has so many supporters in the affluent communities, but maybe if my family had been politically indebted to his for the past three generations I’d see the appeal. Not to say he’s not a striking man, but sometimes one wants brains as part of the package.
Keep an eye on Gerenag Abrana. The good thing about Abrana is that she’s smart, but the bad thing is that she’s also ambitious, and given how badly we need her factories, we have to handle her carefully. The fact that she’s been so meek lately makes me suspicious, especially since I’m convinced some of her agents have been poking around my offices. It’ll be tempting to shoot any I catch, it’s always good to keep your hand in, but probably more fruitful from a security standpoint to track them back to wherever they’re scurrying from.
The Umbrella Ward is holding except that one blip in that popular game that’s going around. Annoying as the Shuos are, they are correct that people can be manipulated through games. I’m about to consult Pioro as to how Doctrine can address the matter.
I’m sure you’ve got plenty on your mind, or if you didn’t before, you should now. I’m off to steal Pioro. Keep me posted on any vital pieces of intelligence that fall into your lap, hmm?
Yours in calendrical heresy,
CHERIS FELT WIDE awake, but it wouldn’t last. Kel Nerevor had been one of the first to get back on her feet. She had taken over the Weapons terminal, as they had had to have servitors haul Lieutenant Kel Jai to Medical, and his replacement had not yet arrived.
The entire command center was awash with alerts demanding attention. Cheris reminded herself that the trick was to prioritize, no matter how insistent all of the lights were that they had to be addressed all at once. As it stood, you could be forgiven for thinking, based on the crazed quilt of red and amber lights, that the entire moth – the entire swarm – was in danger of crashing into some kind of space reef.
A small team of deltaform servitors were cleaning up the messes, small as they were: some blood on the walls and edges of terminals where people had fallen badly, although by some run of luck there had been no serious head injuries. Fortunately, this wasn’t something that needed Cheris’s intervention. When you got right down to it, servitors were frequently better at guiding themselves than the Kel gave them credit for, and they were being very quiet and very discreet, so as not to distract from the business of battle.
“I don’t understand why the heretics aren’t shooting, sir,” Nerevor said in a rasp. “It’s not like they’d be any more fucked than they already are.”
“They’re still figuring out who we are,” Cheris said. But Nerevor was right. Besides the visual alerts, the staticky charts and diagrams and maps that she was monitoring with half an eye, there was the occasional audio alert, low deadened bell tones. Nothing that required immediate action, even though the displays on her terminal were growing more and more crowded. Each one made her flinch: she kept expecting a real emergency to come through.
“Something’s going on in the Anemone Ward, sir,” Scan said. He looked white around the mouth, but she never would have guessed it from his voice. Indeed, he sat at his terminal with a posture so correct she could only call it stiff, when even Nerevor was hunched over – just a little, with an attitude that suggested she was in pain.
“Double-check to make sure the Kel infantry are in null uniforms,” Jedao said. “The Shuos will already be dressed appropriately.” And: “The Kel must avoid being captured at all costs.” If he noticed the chaotic state of the command center, there was no sign of it in his voice. But of course, this sort of thing was nothing new to him.
Cheris sent the orders in. She wished the air were less dry, less hot, that she could have a glass of water; but in all likelihood she was flushed from the stress of the situation, and she would have to wait until she could leave the command center, like everyone else. Minutes peeled past.
Captain Ko called the command center. She almost missed it because Engineering was sending a series of updates on some situation involving the invariant drive, except she saw the blinking Shuos eye call indicator before Jedao had to bring it to her attention. “Sir,” Ko said, “we couldn’t get it released to us earlier, but there should be a list of qualified shield operators. Kel Command might release information to you now that the shields are down and the secret’s out. Just be careful of the timing: the heretics will be suspicious if they catch us chatting with Kel Command. Besides,” and his voice went dry, “it’s not as if Kel Command won’t have to drill state secrets out of our heads. My compliments to General Jedao, sir.” That was all.
“How generous of him,” Jedao said, just as dryly. The shadow’s eyes, to Cheris’s side on the floor, were narrowed.